I'll Wait
by Noxialis
Summary: - Merlin/Arthur - Part of Candy Hearts Series II - Merlin will always wait for Arthur, no matter how long or hard it is.


**Title:** I'll Wait

**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

**Summary: **No matter how many times he has to watch Arthur die, Merlin will always wait for him.

**Notes: **Part of my Candy Hearts Series, year two. I own nothing.

* * *

After some time, Merlin stops counting how old he is. The time that passes just slips by him unnoticed, and he's trapped up in the monotony of life as it floats by him, like a dream. This happens every time he's not with Arthur.

When he's with Arthur, time resumes it's normal pace, allowing him some more time with the man before he has to die again.

Merlin loves Arthur. He's always loved him. So he always finds him again, and forces his company on the man. Arthur never seems to mind.

Sometimes Arthur remembers. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes the two of them are best friends, and other times they are lovers. Merlin doesn't remember if they were lovers during the lives Arthur remembers. Time has not been completely kind to his memory.

This life, Arthur is a company man, rising his way through the corporate ladder with relative ease, though Merlin knows he's still a hard worker and has done everything to earn his job. He is thirty-five years old now, and Merlin came to him in a bar, playing at bartender in this life. They were instantly friends.

They go to meet up this Saturday, a day neither one has to work, and Merlin waits at the café (because he waits, he'll always wait). Arthur starts crossing the street, his light green, and Merlin sees him and smiles. The bus driver sees him too late, and stomps on the brake. Arthur hears the squeal of tires and sees the bus out of the corner of his eye. He tries to run across before he is hit, but the metal beast slams into his right side.

Merlin cries out, his anguished voice audible above all others, and he feels time slow down as the bus looms closer. He thinks for a moment his magic is strong enough to save Arthur, but he realizes that his own body, leaping out of the café chair and crashing through the doors, is in slow motion as well. His magic wanes with each person that stops believing in magic, and enough people were disillusioned by the second world war that his only resource is children.

It's not enough.

He has to watch as Arthur is hurled into the air, flying yards ahead of the bus that comes to stop too late. He has to watch as Arthur hits the pavement a bloody mess, with a pool forming beneath him and bones sticking out of places they shouldn't be.

"Arthur!" he cries in horror, running through the crowd, shoving people to the ground when they don't get out of his way. He crashes to his knees beside the man, hands hovering in the air, trembling. He knows he shouldn't touch anything, that would make things worse, but he wants so desprately to take him into his arms and never let him out of his sight ever again.

"Merlin," Arthur's cracked voice beneath him wavers, and Merlin gives a shuddering gasp and cries ever harder, because he knows that voice, he knows it so well. "Please wait for me."

He will. He always will. And Merlin assures Arthur, his Arthur, of this before the man's eyes slip closed and Merlin can feel the man's golden soul leaving his body.

Arthur died again. At thirty-five. He was hit by a bus, and it was all too soon.

But Merlin knows he'll see him again.

So he waits.

Years and years later, and it's the twenty-first century. Merlin decides to estimate how old he is out of sheer boredom. The dream-like state holds onto his consiousness, though it is held off a little by his job as a nurse. He's even working alongside Gwen, and it's very nice to see her face again.

For the longest time, he would avoid buses, for obvious reasons. But Gwen has forced him to accept public transportation, and so he begrudgingly takes the bus to and from work.

He's coming back home from work now, changed out of his blue scrubs and into a t-shirt and jeans, with a wool coat on keeping him warm. He wonders if he should take a trip to Hawaii for some years, just to experience the climate.

He has a newspaper with him, and he's currently pawing through the classifieds, seeing if anyone if offering a car he could use. He's sure Gwen would be rather proud of him, as long as he found one that actually worked well, and wasn't endangering their planet horribly. The bus rolls to a stop and the doors open, and Merlin flips the page over, eyeing a Chevy, when the seat next to his is occupied and a voice interrupts his reading.

"Could I see the sports section?"

Merlin forces himself to not jerk his head up, because he knows that voice, and instead slips the sports section out of the newspaper. "Sure." He says as he does so, and hands it over with a smile on his face. Arthur takes the offering with his own smile.

"My name is Arthur." He says, offering the hand that is not currently holding onto the sports. Merlin's smile widens and he takes Arthur's hand, shaking it firmly and thoroughly enjoying the warmth of the man's fingers, a pulse thrumming through his body. Alive.

Their hands separate too soon, and Merlin knows his stop is coming up. And as much as he would like to sit next to Arthur and talk and get to know the man again, he doesn't want to look like a stalker and he needs to be fed.

So he hunches up the paper a little closer, as though he was really looking into those cars, and moves towards his pocket like he's got something there. Arthur keeps one eye on him, not suspicious but definitely interested (Merlin has had lifetimes of watching Arthur to know what the man was feeling).

He hides nothing in his palm, but it looks like there's something, and Merlin moves his fingers over the newsprint, a trail if black ink following. His magic is still limited to parlor tricks, but it is stronger than it has been in years. He thinks he has to thank Criss Angel for that, mostly. Cable TV tends to help spread the belief.

The bus rolls to a stop again and Merlin looks up. "Oh," he says. "This is my stop." And he stands up, folding the newspaper and Arthur makes room shifting his knees so Merlin can get past. Merlin pauses, smiling, and hands the paper over. "Here, you can have the rest." He says, and begins walking down the aisle. As he walks out the door, out of the corner of his eye, he can see Arthur shuffling through the papers, finding which one Merlin was on last. As he leaves the bus, he sees through a window that Arthur has stopped and is smiling.

Merlin grins and starts walking towards his apartment when his cell phone goes off. Grinning like a fool, he fishes it out of his pocket and flips it open, answering with a cheery, "Hello?"

"You do realize I can't let anybody else ever see this paper, right?"

Merlin laughs and continues walking. "Fine with me."

Merlin waits. Each and every lifetime. No matter how early Arthur dies, or how old. No matter how much time he gets to spend with the man. No matter if Arthur falls for him or it remains platonic.

No matter what, Merlin always (always) waits.


End file.
